You hear a lot about the way that shopping, once a lively experience rich in human contact, has gone all soulless now, what with online stores and automated checkouts and all. Well yes, there’s a lot in that, not to mention all the difficulties of getting anything to work (as whinged about in earlier blogs), but there is one rarely-mentioned upside: machines can’t laugh at you. At least, not yet. They can’t sigh, roll their electronic eyes or even gently offer to take you through the whole thing again.
We don’t usually think of ourselves as being either good or bad at shopping, but if you ask me it’s a skill like anything else. Starting with the basics: how many hands do you need to manage goods, cards, card readers cash, coupons, and any small people, confused elders and so on whom you may have brought along? I make it six at least, and you can double that at Christmas. Having only two feeble paws, I find it’s a rare day that I get out without spilling my change, upsetting the card machine or bursting a carton or two.
Traumatic, that’s what it is. No wonder we all need therapy afterwards.
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